Death Springs Eternal: The Rift Book III (28 page)

Lumley took a deep breath. “Okay. Listen, there’re things going on here, all right? Things that aren’t…I don’t know, on the up-and-up.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one thing…” He ran his hand over his mouth and then pointed at Billy. “I think that’s a bit of a problem for some folks here.”

“What is?
The color of my skin?”

Gulping, Lumley said, “Yes.”

“And why would that be?”

The first airman shook his head. “I don’t know, man,” he said, still speaking in a whisper.
“Seriously.
My unit and I had been stationed in
Montgomery
when the shit went down. We hid out at the base, defending it best we could, but I don’t know how much longer we could’ve lasted. We were there for almost a month when this General from
Florida
named Bathgate showed up. He had a couple platoons of him, from different divisions of the military, and he said he was under orders to cluster everyone into a single combat unit. We were rebuilding the country, he said. His group was small—only a few hundred—but they were well organized. We were all relieved. So of course we joined forces with them. That was months ago. Some of the things I’ve seen since then…let’s just say, it’s disturbing. Bathgate recruited folks we wouldn’t have
ever
considered back before this all started—militia groups, anti-government organizations, and yeah, a lot of others who don’t like folks like yourself. Then the black folks from my engineering unit disappeared.”

“What happened to them?”

“Exiled from camp.
Killed, maybe.
I never found out for sure. The general has his circle of trust, and I’m not in it. I’m on the fringe here, just a soldier doing a job. But I’ve heard rumors that all folks of color they run across, he’s got his band of dedicated bastards who take them out.”

“So why are we here, then? Why not simply gun us down at the hotel?”

Lumley shrugged. “Maybe the rumors weren’t true.”

“And yet you tell me about them as if they are.”

“I have my doubts. But you seem like a respectable man. I thought you deserved to know.”

Billy leaned against the wall, making sure to avoid the black charring. “There is one thing I do not understand,” he said.

“What?”

“If you do not trust your superiors, why are you still here?”

Lumley’s eyes dropped once more, and his cheeks flushed. “You don’t understand. It was tough out there. I lost so many friends. The general kept my men safe, and I’ve never had a problem with anyone, personally.”

“But only those men who fit an acceptable description.”

Running a hand through his hair, Lumley replied, “Sometimes you have to make a choice. I chose to protect my people.”

“At the expense of your principles.”

Lumley shot him a determined look, all sense of shame disappearing. “In times like these, principles are an indulgence. They don’t exist anymore.”

“I think I have heard enough,” said Billy, and he started walking away.

“Hold on,” said Lumley.

Billy turned, hands on his hips, and glared at him.

“Listen, that’s not really true. I want to help as much as I can, okay? The rest of the folks here are going to be set up in the closest dorms. But I had a few guys I trust clean out the University Forest Apartments, toward the other end of the campus. It’s pretty wooded over there, secluded. You’ll be out of sight from the majority of the populace, and hopefully it’s out of sight, out of mind. It’s the best form of protection I can offer for now, just in case.”

“Can we leave if we so desire?”

Lumley shook his head.
“Not a good idea yet.
The general’s got outposts set up all over the place, and he’s having a fence built around the city. But I’ll see what I can come up with, okay?” His voice sounded whiny, almost pleading. “I’m sorry. It’s the best I can do.”

Billy groaned, turned his back on the man, and stormed away. He listened, but could hear no footsteps coming up from behind him. He pictured the man in his mind, saw him cowering there, trying to convince himself he was in the right by turning a blind eye to what went on around him. It was pathetic.

The faces of the soldiers took on new meaning as he strolled by them. In their eyes he saw revulsion, distrust,
eagerness
to do harm. He wasn’t sure if it was really there or if he imagined it, but that didn’t matter. Marcy had been right. There was hatred here. And now he had to do the same as everyone else—protect his own at all costs.

Most of the lighter-skinned survivors from the Omni had been escorted away by the time he rounded the corner. Only a few, including Forrest and Christopher, milled about, looking confused. He spotted Marcy and Leon, standing in a group of thirty or so others. Marcy looked ill as a soldier grabbed her arm, trying to force her to move away from the assembly.
Leon
raised his fist, ready to strike. Billy braced himself to leap forward.

“Hold it!” a voice—Lumley’s—shouted.

Billy paused, turned, and saw the first airman calmly sauntering across the pavement. He’d washed any doubt from his expression. Billy expected him to unsheathe his firearm and pop him in the head, but instead the first airman marched right past him.

“What’s going on here?” Lumley asked.

“She’s in the wrong group!” said the soldier, a young man of Hispanic lineage. “She won’t leave!”

Lumley brushed him aside.
“So what?
We don’t control who goes in what group, Private. If she wishes to stay with these folks, she’s more than welcome to.”

“But you said—”

“Shut it,” snapped Lumley, his head whipping around. “Go back and help Austin get the generators going.”

“Yes, sir.”

The young soldier stormed off, and Billy noticed that the eyes of the soldiers who remained were fixed on their superior. Some glared, some were confused, some offered sympathy, but all were frightened. There seemed to be a thin thread binding this army together. Billy got the impression it would only take one slight tug for that thread to snap.

Forrest approached him, eyeing him with concern. “What’s going on here?” the old cop asked.

Billy waved him off. “Go join the Terrys. Get some rest. I will fill you in later.”

“Is this what I think it is?”

“Unfortunately.
Now go, and take Christopher with you.”

Forrest grasped his hand, shook his head, his eyes full of fire, and then turned away. His fingers coiled and uncoiled as he walked, making him look like the most conflicted man in the world. Forrest slapped Christopher on the back, leaned down, whispered something into the boy’s ear, and then guided him off. Christopher glanced over his shoulder, his eyes suddenly glossy, and Billy grasped his fist with his opposite hand, trying to tell the boy to be strong. But it was Forrest who made that perfectly clear, getting Christopher’s attention and then cocking back his finger and faux-shooting one of the nearby soldiers. Christopher shuddered, but seemed to regain a semblance of composure. Billy silently thanked Forrest, both for being a friend and serving as an example that not every man in the world took the easy way out. He would be a good influence for the boy.

Billy walked up to
Leon
, placed a calming hand on the raging young man’s shoulder, and squeezed. “It will be fine, son,” he said.

“They wanted to take me away,” said Marcy, her voice weak.
“Said I don’t belong with
these people.
”

“I know,” he replied.

“So what’re we going to do?” asked
Leon
.

“What we must,” replied Billy, and when Lumley shouted for everyone to follow him, the three of them did just that.

*
  
*
  
*

Cody sat in the general’s
Richmond
City Hall
office, fidgeting with the chair’s frayed armrest. The intimidating man across from him hadn’t said a word since Cody had given his report. He simply sat there, bone-still, staring at him with those haunting gray eyes. Cody pictured Bathgate nonchalantly pulling his pistol and shooting him in the face, as he’d gleefully watched the man do more than a few times. He wanted to open his mouth, to scream for him to get it over with already, but he kept his trap zipped. This was a test. It had to be. As he’d learned every day since entering the military, as long as it wasn’t multiple
choice
, there wasn’t a test in the world that Cody Jackson couldn’t pass.

Finally, Bathgate blinked. He swiveled in his chair and stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. Moving to the window, he peered out at the late morning sun and the people working outside.

“Do you know our numbers, Sergeant?” he asked.

“Whaddaya mean, sir?” replied Cody. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath.

“How many men and women occupy this fair city?”

Cody gulped. “Um, I don’t know sir.”

Bathgate turned away from the window and faced him. His shoulders visibly relaxed as he spoke. “Right now, we have just over nine thousand souls living under our umbrella. Not three weeks ago, that number was closer to ten. And do you know what ties them all together?”

Cody shook his head.

“Dedication to survival, that’s what, Sergeant. They live so we may go on, and we go on so they may live. It is the tie that binds, the bond we all share. We have all been through hell separately, and now we create heaven together. It’s really quite a beautiful sentiment, if I do say so.”

Gulping, Cody said, “Why are you telling me this, sir?”

Bathgate started pacing again. “Those same ties that bind us also bind others. Those you brought back from
Pittsburgh
, they have their
own
links, their own common interest. Though much lesser than we, their numbers are enough that they could cause a problem. That goes for desirables and undesirables alike.”

“I realize that, sir. But I know we’re running short on doctors and stuff, so I thought it was worth the risk.”

The general strolled around the room, slipped behind his desk, and sat back down. “I understand that, Sergeant. I understand why you took the risk, why you brought them here. But I also want to let you know how
large
of a risk that is. You should have radioed me when you found them. I would have sent men, and we could have dealt with this…problem…outside of our home.”

Cody’s heart began racing. “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t have much time. I had to think
quick
. I thought you’d know what to do once we got here.”

“Oh,
I
know what to do,” said Bathgate, raising an eyebrow. “But do
you
?”

Leaning back, Cody breathed a sigh of relief. Here it
was,
his chance to pass the test.

“Well, it should go like this,” he said. “We let ’em sit for a bit. Keep the Churchies and the Aryans away, which shouldn’t be too hard. We go in there, make nice,
try
to find out who’s interested in
moving up in the world.
We distribute the useful ones, send them to different parts of the city, then we take out the rest, quiet-like.
Easy as pie.”